Yes, it's been a long time, I know.
And the thing is, I'm really pretty happy right now. Business is good (and I love my work), everyone around me is now, finally, healthy and happy. This year, everyone we know has been getting sick (including the wee monster... Grade 1 kids share nothing but their germs).
It's been a full fall season.
So I guess that's why my body decided to crap out this weekend.
By Friday night, I could've been a double for Kathleen Turner, my voice was so low and scratchy.
We had been invited to T's for a big party. T has a few of these every year and, because we have yet to make it to one, I
hear they are fantastic events with wonderful, intelligent people to meet and lots of fun, grown-up conversation. T is a
brilliant person. Imagine Noel Coward or Oscar Wilde in Rupert Everett's body and that's my T. He surrounds himself with like minds, so you can imagine what one of these events must be like. But every time we try to go to one of these shindigs, we have some kind of health emergency with M or my parents or the babysitter cancels... something totally sucky happens and we have to drop out at the last minute.
This time, it was
my health. And the stinking thing is that for the first time in ages the stars had aligned in just the right way to allow for J and I to go to T's party: My parents, both healthy for the first time in ages, had taken the wee monster for the night, I had no work scheduled for that day so I could rest up and be energetic for T's bash. Yet there I am, Saturday morning, praying that with a little sleep and lots of liquids we could still go.
J laughed. Everytime I opened my mouth it was clear we weren't going anywhere. I finally gave in, towards lunchtime, and called T to let him know.
I'm praying he continues to invite us... we'll make it yet, damnit!
